


above the noise of the streets below

by bitter_edge



Category: Dangan Ronpa - All Media Types, New Dangan Ronpa V3: Everyone's New Semester of Killing
Genre: Sickfic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-01-02
Updated: 2018-01-02
Packaged: 2019-02-27 09:08:03
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 491
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13245030
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bitter_edge/pseuds/bitter_edge
Summary: When you come back, mug full of chicken soup in hand, Saihara is right where you left him - he’s fallen asleep, book still in hand. You sit beside him, and he stirs. “Oh… Hello, Y/N…” He sniffles.---Saihara catches your cold after he's done helping you recover from it.





	above the noise of the streets below

“Y/N, you–ahhchoo!–ugh…” Saihara calls out to you, voice hoarse, from under the duvet you’ve wrapped him in. “I thought this would happen, s-so you don’t have to trouble yourself…”  
“But you did the same for when I got sick,” you point out. “Remember? Of course I’d want to take care of you, too.” He’s been like this all day, but you’ve been persistent, too. The young man sinks into the plush cushions of the large couch. His face peeks out at you from under the blanket with a sad look in his eyes.  
“I’m sorry we couldn’t go on our date today,” he mutters. Quietly, for the sake of his throat.  
You smile at him, kneeling down and wipe the sweat from his face.

Saihara was always a little quiet, even after all the time you’d spent together. But this morning, when he’d usually have been greeting you good morning and maybe giving you a kiss to start the day with; he’d been completely silent, flushed, and off-balance instead. It was odd. And a little worrying. He must have figured it out ahead of you, but the thermometer you used to check his temperature confirms it: it turns out that while he was helping you recover from your sickness last week, he’d caught it himself.

“Please-” he coughs, “-um, I’m in your care, then. Thank you so much.” Saihara leans over, still a little dizzy, and tries to reach for the book on the low living room table. You take the book and place it in his hands, leaning forward to kiss his forehead. The detective blushes–an impressive feat, given his fever–and mutters a quiet “thank you” before sitting up on the couch, pulling the blanket over his shoulders, and continuing with his novel.

When you come back, mug full of chicken soup in hand, Saihara is right where you left him - he’s fallen asleep, book still in hand. You sit beside him, and he stirs. “Oh… Hello, Y/N…” He sniffles. Blinks at you with bleary eyes, moves to rest his head on your shoulder, and promptly goes back to sleep. The afternoon light streams in through the curtains. You thread your fingers through his.

When Saihara wakes up, it’s you who’s fallen asleep. The room is dyed in the deep hues of the dusk. He’s feeling a little better, aware of your hand in his, and embarrassed at the thought of having slept on you the whole time. But he sees the mug sitting on the table, and looks to you; chest rising and falling as you sleep beside him. “Y/N… wake up. I don’t want you to get sick again.” He nudges you gently. Despite what he says, the young detective can’t help but smile at the painfully fond feeling, blooming through his chest.  
“Maybe,” he thinks to himself, “just a little bit, like how I did this with you, is fine.”

**Author's Note:**

> WEW i didn't know what to title this one either!!  
> this is another crosspost of a request on the saihara-shuichi-imagines tumblr. check it out sometime if you like saihara!  
> i'm a total sucker for sickfics also, haha.  
> and thanks for reading it here; it's super short, but hope you enjoyed it!


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